


Broken

by FrozenOpera



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-24 03:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14347542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenOpera/pseuds/FrozenOpera
Summary: The Starkiller base has been destroyed, but the First Order is stronger than ever, and the Resistance is struggling for survival.The sudden mystery surrounding the loss of one of their most valiant captains will force General Organa, and a young rebel commander, to face the darkness that exists inside every human heart.~They thought they were always good, proper, and just; that the darkness would never corrupt those on their side. They were wrong.





	1. Lost ship

**  
**

They saw the Dalmazia signal disappear before their eyes.

Nadira, the young commander of the mission, immediately feared a First Order attack.

"Daal, what happened?"

"I do not know" the pilot replied. "The sensors do not detect a jump in hyperspace. The Dalmazia simply... evaporated. "

Nadira gripped the headrest of the pilot's seat, shaking her copper-colored curls. "Impossible. Launch another scan of the area and see if you catch an explosion. It could be a trap."

The young woman straightened up, staring into the darkness of the space that extended beyond the cockpit. Next to her, Daal murmured something about the skills of Commander Arda to escape all the traps held by their hated enemies.

Nadira knew too the value of captain Tula Arda, Commander of the Dalmazia and one of the best pilots of the Resistance fleet, but she also knew the brutality and efficiency of the First Order. The heinous heir of the Empire.

Her own family had fall victim of their war tactics and Nadira, to avenge them, had voted herself, body and soul, to the Rebel cause. Regardless of the New Republic complacency, Nadira had never believed peace could last, and she had fought the remains of the Empire along with the followers of General Leia Organa for many of her twenty-seven years. In her life, she had known nothing but war, but she did not regret anything.

"Commander, the sensors detect something... the echo of an explosion."

Nadira stiffened. "Inspect the surroundings, if it's clear of enemy ships, we will approach the site of the explosion to look for survivors."

Daal glanced at her but she did not comment further. Nadira hated the idea of abandoning someone out there, but if the Dalmazia had fallen into a trap, she did not want her ship to suffer the same fate. There were five people onboard whose lives depended on her. Nadira could not endanger them.

Minutes passed slowly before the computer returned the communication that there were no nearby First Order ships.

Nodding, Nadira gave the order to move forward. "Send a message to D’Qar," she added. "General Organa must know the Dalmazia is lost."

At the thought, Nadira silently cringed. A crew of fifty Resistance members were on that ship. Fifty _precious members_ , now that their ranks were becoming increasingly thinner. Nadira was familiar with some of them. Their loss waw invaluable.

She put her hands to her chest, closing her green eyes for a moment. Ships, outposts, whole worlds were being destroyed out there. How many more have to die before the First Order was satisfied?

  
________________________________________

  
The Dalmazia had been one the Resistance largest ship, and its debris were scattered everywhere.

The computer on Nadira's ship was constantly scanning the surroundings, in a desperate –and may be vain-, hunt for survivors.

Clare Luko, the doctor who, in the original plan, had to be transferred on the Dalmazia, looked astonished at the scarps of metals and objects floating out of the viewport.

"How did it happen?"

Next to her, Nadira shook her head. "The sensor revealed traces of ionized radiation. Probably the Dalmazia exploded for a catastrophic and sudden deterioration of the core rector. "

"I've never heard of such problems on a ship of that class."

"Neither do I, but the traces are clear. What caused it though... remains unclear."

Nadira's lips tightened in a thin line, while she evaluated all the hypotheses, from the sabotage to a bomb placed on the Dalmazia. "To find out exactly what happened, we have to recover the ship black box containing the log of the computer and the videos of the internal compartments."

"Do you have any hopes of finding survivors?"

"No idea. But if there someone out there, we'll bring them home, Clare. "

In that moment the ship slipped past a dismembered body floating in the void. Nadira felt an icy grip tighten her heart, while the doctor shuddered. The young Commander had almost lost her hopes, when suddenly Daal's voice broke from the intercom.

"Commander, we have a positive response."

Followed by Clare, Nadira rushed to the bridge.

"There, in front of us” Daal indicated. “It is a pressurized module. It was designed to detach autonomously from the main ship in case the computer detects a structural failure."

Nadira nodded enthusiastically. "Old, fabulous Corellian ships! I knew that civilian cruise ships had these systems on board."

"The Dalmazia was exactly a private cruise ship before being refitted" Daal informed Nadira, his excitement matching hers.

"Did you find other modules?"

"Three intact, with four people inside. Their vital signs are weak, but they are alive."

"Great" exclaimed Nadira, turning to Clare. "Prepare your kit, they might need medical assistance. Once the survivors are recovered, we will head for D'Quar as fast as possible. Daal, bring us next to the modules, I set up the bridge with Jos and Talek."

Four people out of fifty. Nadira would have done anything to save them.

  
________________________________________

  
Fortunately, the standard mobile bridge connected with the modules with no particular problems. The two men and the woman recovered from the first two pods were unconscious but alive, and only one had a serious head injury.

However, nothing had prepared Nadira, and Jos who accompanied her, to what laid inside the last intact module.

The flashlight they had brought illuminated the space inside the module with a livid light. It was completely empty of furniture, its walls unadorned and plain, with only a bent metal bar exuding from the floor.

"It's a cell," Jos said, the voice stuck in his throat.

Nadira did not comment, as she dared not to speak. 

An unconscious man was chained to the bar by a pair of handcuffs. He was lying on his back, his face to the ceiling and his hands locked above his head. Wearing only light gray pants, he was also barefoot. The pale, naked skin of his torso and arms was covered with bruises, cuts, and what looked like burns.

Another body floated in the nonexistent gravity, the torso looked burned, but the intact face was that of a woman Nadira had often seen around on D'Quar or on the Raddus: captain Tula Arda. Despite the injuries, it was quite clear who the survivor was.

"Talek" Nadira whispered in the earplugged commlink. "Bring our laser shears; we have to cut a pair of handcuffs."

  
________________________________________

  
In front of Nadira, on the floor of the loading bay, lay the Dalmazia black box. Recovered that, and make sure there were no more survivors, they had left to reach their headquarters on D'Qar at the maximum speed allowed by their ship.

The young woman looked suspiciously at the object in front of her, cylindrical and vaguely similar to a big Takodan water purifier. That "box" contained quite a few mysteries, and she had to make sure that only general Organa had access to those files.

Her eyes ran to the human body wrapped in a sheet, deposed in a corner of the bay. They had decided to take Arda's body back to D'Quar. She was a Resistance heroine who deserved a military funeral with full honors, and Nadira was determined to discover the reason for her death, which could hardly be attributed to the explosion of the Dalmazia. Next to the body was placed the only weapon found in the module.

Nadira stared at it. It was an electrified baton, a weapon that First Order soldiers used for mob control. The young woman had no idea why it was in the cell, and she was hoping the internal videos saved from the black box could clarify the mystery.

She was about to return to the bridge when the commlink activated.

"Nadira, can you please come here?"

She had known Clare for years, and her friend had never sounded that tense. She quickly headed for the area of the ship they had turned into a clinic. What else could go wrong that day?

  
________________________________________

  
The space was narrow, with the only two cots occupied. On one lay the unconscious crew member with the head injury, while the other rested the man they had found handcuffed in the brig.

Clare had covered him head to toe in bacta gel. He was laying prone, waist down a light sheet rested over his body.

Nadira, fighting back a wave of nausea, noticed his back was not only covered in burns, but also cuts inflicted with a staff or a whip. On her native planet slavery was legal, and she knew those injuries well. She had seen many cadavers in his life, but this was much worse.

The man face was the only part of his body without serious damages, save for a purple bruise over his left cheekbone. He was young, perhaps her own age or even younger. He sported cropped dark blonde hair, in a distinctive military style. He was fit, muscular but slender. And tall. Well over six feet, she estimated.

Nadira frowned. The stranger looked like a soldier. Perhaps was he in the Resistance, punished for some crime? But she could very well see that those injuries were not a punishment, those were due to a prolonged torture session.

"His condition?" she asked Clare.

"Stable. His injuries are not life threatening, but they are painful. He's sedated." The doctor sighed, checking her datapad. "We have burns, cuts and bruises, and a collection of broken bones: three ribs, every finger of the left hand, and a broken wrist. I can't identify the weapon that caused the burns. But they are inflicted... everywhere."

Nadira could only think at the electrified baton laying in the cargo bay. "I think I know with what they did that... kriff… what did you do boy to deserve this?"

Her friend shrugged, visibly conflicted. "Markers in his blood show an high level of oxidative and neurological stress. He was in extreme pain when the Dalmazia collapsed. I think they were torturing him, and they did it for days, judging by his conditions."

The nausea returned to torment Nadira, along with a disturbing thought. That was a Resistance ship, she could not think of a crew inclined in those practices, and a captain allowing them. 

"Who is this guy?” she muttered, deeply concerned.

"Look here. This may give us a clue."

Clare indicated something on the prisoner's back. At the base of the neck, although covered by a violet bruise, a tattoo was visible. It was an alphanumeric code in Aurebesh characters.

_KR-6790_

Nadira had to read it twice to make sure she was not hallucinating. The second time she wished that signs meant something else, but it was impossible. Only one organization in the whole galaxy marked its soldiers as if they were herd. A swift look on Clare’s tight lips confirmed Nadira they had a huge problem.

Because the _tortured prisoner_ was a First Order stormtrooper.


	2. D'Qar

The loss of the Dalmazia was a disaster. For the ship and, more important, for the invaluable lives of the forty-seven Resistance members, now nothing else than space debris.

Among the dead, there was one of their most capable captains. A woman who General Leia Organa could not remember as a friend, but who had served their cause well.

The shuttle was returning with her body, and Leia was determined to find out what had happened aboard the lost ship.

 

Dark clouds, heavy with rains, lingered over the Resistance HQ on D'Qar, and the wind was humid and chilly, but Leia had decided to wait on the tarmac the shuttle landing. She owed at least that piteous welcome to the few survivors.

Next to her, a medical team was also waiting, and Lieutenant Kaydel Ko Connix, squeezed in a padded coat.

"Lieutenant, you are going to catch a cold... may I suggest you return inside?" Leia said, giving the young woman a sympathetic look. She liked Kaydel, to the point of promoting her after the success of the attack against the Starkiller base. The blonde haired Lieutenant had become a sort of invaluable assistant, much needed during the evacuation phase they were running. The First Order knew their position, and a fleet of Star Destroyers was already heading at full speed toward the planet. They had no more than one week to complete the evacuation.

Kaydel shrugged, with a serious face showing no ounce of annoyance.

"It's all right, General Organa, I prefer to remain here… you might need my help."

Leia suppressed a smile. Kaydel had a motherly tone she would have found hilarious in any other occasion. "I understand, but try not to get sick. Every resource is now… _irreplaceable_."

Then she returned her attention to the sky, where the shuttle was to appear in any moment.

Leia could not refrain to considered Rey, Kaydel and Nadira as the daughters she had never had. Sometimes she reminded to herself the many deaths she have witnessed along the years, that should have taught her not to get too attached to people, but it was impossible to resist. With Ben gone, she had only those girls to ease the pain of the ageing.

For the affection Leia had for her, she regretted Nadira had to endure the consequences of the Dalmazia disaster. The girl was a veteran pilot, but to collect the remains of her dead companions in space was a gritty task Leia would have spared her.

Suddenly, the shuttle they were waiting for descended from the sky, interrupting her thoughts. The aircraft leaned lightly on the tarmac, while the medical team rushed forward toward the rear-loading door.

Leia followed them more slowly, Lieutenant Connix at her heels.

 

The two surviving Resistance members disembarked looking unharmed, but still shocked. Leia personally greeted them, giving a quick look to the wounded. All of them were taken immediately to the base medbay. Then she waited for Nadira, the last one to leave the shuttle.  
The young woman descended the ramp escorting two of her companions. They were carrying a stretcher where, wrapped in a sheet, rested the body of Captain Arda.

Leia watched Connix escorting the body to the cryogenic chamber, then turned toward Nadira. They were alone now, and she could sense all the discomfort oozing from the woman at her side.

"Come, walk with me, we have to talk," Leia said, slipping her arm around Nadira’s one. The redhead simply nodded and followed without a word, lips tighten in a tin, pale line.

They walked for a few minutes, each women lost in their own thoughts.

Sometimes, looking at those brave, fierce young ladies like Nadira and Kaydel, Leia felt a sense of pride mixed with pity. On the one hand she was happy such talented youth had decided to join the rebel cause, but on the other hand she regretted it.

If the New Republic had not decided to ignore blissfully the rise of the First Order, boys and girls like these could have had a peaceful life. The life they deserved.

People of her age, Leila thought, had the blood of these youths on their hands.

"General, how could that have happened?" Nadira suddenly asked her, stopping and staring into her eyes.

It was obvious Nadira was not referring to the loss of the ship. To Leia, the answer seemed quite obvious, and the disgusted expression on Nadira’s face spoke volumes: she already knew it too, but she did not like it.

“Nadira, on the ships under my direct command human rights had always been granted even to most heinous Imperial assassins. Otherwise, what would have distinguished us from them? However" Leia added, lowering her voice, "Commanders have the ultimate authority on their respective ships. You are too young to remember, but I know for sure that a lot of information, vital for our definitive victory against the Empire, was forcibly torn from our enemies. This too means fighting a war; a war that, please remember, we had not wanted to fight. 

Nadira's green eyes flashed as she nervously pulled her hair away from her face. "I beg your pardon General, but I know. I am not so naive as to believe that our enemy is the evil incarnate, while we are the honorable knights whose fights are always fair, but that... what they did to that man goes far beyond what I have seen in all of these years of skirmishes against the First Order." The woman rubbed her hands together, looking deeply torn. "Mother of moons, what kind of information was that stormtrooper hiding to reduce him like that? And, anyway, we all know there are cleaner methods. Mental probes no less painful but certainly more reliable than physical torture. I do not understand, General Organa. You’ll read the complete medical report and you’ll see with your own eyes: that's the job of a sadist butcher, not of a military officer leading an interrogation. "

Leia looked away, suppressing a scowl. Nadira had said it all. It was the same thing Leia had thought when she has seen Clare’s preliminary report. The kind of injuries the stromtrooper suffered were incompatible with those of a mere interrogation. It almost seemed that whoever inflicted them wanted to punish the man for something. Or, and this was the most chilling hypothesis, to have fun.

Just the thought of it run a shiver of cold run down Leia’s back. She placed one hand over Nadira's still tight grip. "You are a compassionate, honorable woman, and I know it won't be easy, but try not to muse too much upon this. You did a great job bringing the survivors back home, and retrieving the Dalmazia black box. Now it's time to rest."

After a moment of hesitation Nadira nodded, looking vaguely discontent. "I'll try. Thank you for your words, General Organa. May I have your permission to leave? "

"Yes, certainly."

Leia watched Nadira sliding the hood of her shabby flight jacket over her curls, and briskly walking back to the base main building.

 

Left alone, a melancholic smile claimed the lips of the Princess of Alderaan. It seemed like yesterday she was used to run around like that young woman, fighting for the Rebellion with an equally young Luke, Han, and an idea perhaps a little too idyllic about the rectitude of all the rebels. Nadira could pretend to be aware it was not like that, but Leia could read the her like an open book.

Nadira was still convinced that no freedom fighter could indulge in such abject actions, but years of war had taught Leia otherwise. It broke her heart that the readhead was going to realize it the hard way.

  
________________________________________

  
_'Let's get a look at those files'_ Leia told to herself, sitting down at her desk. She had also planned to talk to the survivors, but she wanted to give them first a few days to recover.

With a grimace, Leia stared at the list of footage the technicians had extracted from the black box mainframe. She would also question the stormtrooper, but first she wanted to get an exact idea of what had happened.

The sensation that the prisoner's ordeal might be connect with the ship destruction made her uncomfortable, but Lelia could not dismiss it.

The files were only sorted by date, and not by ship sections. Leia leaned one elbow on the desk and placed her chin on her open hand. It would have been a long, boring and perhaps perilous work, that she had decided to face alone. Leia had a bad feeling about the whole matter, and she did not want others, Connix included, to watch those video before she had assessed the circumstances.

Randomly she opened one file, dating back to one week before the loss of the Dalmazia. The holographic projector displayed a group of people bickering inside what looked like the ship's canteen.

Leia snorted, definitely not thrilled. “Sounds like I’m off to a good start…”

 

She opened about thirty file before founding what she was looking for. Nadira had sent her pictures of the cell where they had found the stormtrooper, so Leia recognized it immediately by the curious u-handle that protruded from the floor.

The soldier was present in the video, along with three other men; Leia recognized one as Lieutenant Anvir, a middle-aged man second in command to Captain Arda. Luckily, he was among the survivors. He would have had much to explain, Leia mused, already not happy with what the video was shoving.

The footage should have been recorded just after the trooper capture: the guy had still his armor on, but without the helmet. Anvir seemed to study him intently, while the others were laughing and making weird, obscene threats that made Leia cringed inwardly. She cursed. _What_ they were suggesting was wrong at so many levels Leia was surprised that Arda kept the two on her ship. She should have not tolerated those illegal acts on prisoners. And Leia was petty positive that Arda knew. Or her right-and man wouldn't be there.

Leia rotated the projector to have a clear shot at the stormtrooper's face.

He looked slightly younger than Nadira, with an attractive face devoid of any expression. Ice-blue eyes stared around without the slightest trace of fear or any other visible emotion.

Finn had told her what happened in the recruitment centers of the First Order. He had told her of the children sold by their own families or abducted, and then brainwashed into killing machines.

Even if that young man in the video was technically an enemy, Leia could not stop herself to pity him.

"He's still just a boy. What the Fist Oder does is just cruel madness... "Leia murmured, feeling sick.

The video continued with the three of the Dalmazia crew stripping the trooper of his armor, then they forced him on his knees and chained the man to the floor. Only then they leave the room. To his credit, Anvir was looking sorrowful.

Left alone, the prisoner sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes fixed on the door. He had not said a word but now, without the protection of his armor, a feeble glint of anxiety was emerging in his posture, visible even trough the video.

Leia sighed, closing the file and pouring into a cup a hot and energizing drink. She had still at least another thousand files to examine.

**Author's Note:**

> _Translated from my own Italian fiction. Hopefully it's not too messy... :)_   
> 


End file.
